


Casses

by lulahbelle



Category: The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Angst, Biting, Insecurity, Jealousy, M/M, Possessiveness, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-28
Updated: 2012-06-28
Packaged: 2017-11-08 18:22:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/446140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lulahbelle/pseuds/lulahbelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I began writing this in March as comment fic in answer to a kink meme prompt that called for Marcus to show Esca who he belongs to but I wasn't able to make Esca as lightheartedly flirtatious as the prompt wanted him and I don't consider this a fill for it anymore really. </p><p>The word Casses is I think Latin for some sort of hunting net and the name Brennus was the first thing Google suggested for a Celtic name that had been Romanised. Historical accuracy is only loosely loosely approximate.</p><p>They are seriously lacking in communication between them in this fic. I've written them so that their sex and love is instinctive rather than discussed.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Casses

**Author's Note:**

> I began writing this in March as comment fic in answer to a kink meme prompt that called for Marcus to show Esca who he belongs to but I wasn't able to make Esca as lightheartedly flirtatious as the prompt wanted him and I don't consider this a fill for it anymore really. 
> 
> The word Casses is I think Latin for some sort of hunting net and the name Brennus was the first thing Google suggested for a Celtic name that had been Romanised. Historical accuracy is only loosely loosely approximate.
> 
> They are seriously lacking in communication between them in this fic. I've written them so that their sex and love is instinctive rather than discussed.

The Tribune Placidus is to marry a girl from a rich family. As part of the celebrations a weekend of hunting is planned.

It has been over a year since Marcus and Esca returned from their Eagle exploits, but society in Southern England moves slower than in Rome, and they find themselves invited.

At first Marcus has no interest in going. A simple man who dislikes manipulators and liars he considers politicians like Placidus, and those friends of his who were considered important men the worst examples of these things.

It takes only a moments serious thought about his ambitions for the future to change his mind.

He and Esca intend to have a farm together as soon as the money is available to do so.

Rome sends them reward each month for rescuing the Eagle, but as a series of payments, none very large in themselves. These they have saved as best they can whilst paying for their way in the world and repaying Uncle Aquila, but at the rate the money arrives, they will need to stay at the villa in Calleva for at least another year until they can secure a large enough purse for a decent farm set up.

Now, after already a year of hiding the affection he and Esca have from his close quartered uncle, Marcus is desperate to get the money to be able to leave sooner.

He had been thinking before that to do this, he or Esca, ideally both of them, would probably have to get some official or trade job. As Roman appointments rely much on nepotism, this would mean befriending some Roman officials or tradesmen - such people as would likely be guests at Placidus' hunting weekend.

Attending seems to Marcus like a necessary evil.

Not so to Esca, who absolutely refuses to go, no matter how reasonably Marcus puts his perspective to him.

Marcus tries several ways to convince him even, upon hearing the details of Placidus' household from his uncle, trying to tempt him with the possible luxury.

"There will likely be a great feast put on for us when we are done with the days festivities and Placidus' baths are second to hardly any in the region." Marcus informs him. He is a little unprepared for how intent Esca's frown is as he says blunt, "No!"

For a while whatever Marcus says on the issue Esca's response to it this "No", even where the reply makes no sense to Marcus' utterance.

Esca does not justify his refusal further than stating it, and Marcus is too irritated to imagine that there might be real reason in it by asking why.

Marcus presumes Esca is being stubborn, that his reason is just his like of standing firm on some issue or another.

All the same Marcus knows Esca is loyal and dislikes leaving him to his own devices, so he knows that if he determines to go, then despite his disagreement Esca will not let him go alone.

Taking advantage of this knowledge of him he refuses to change his mind on the issue.

*

As the event nears the air between them becomes exceptionally fraught. Marcus mentions the weekend every now and then, only minimally, when they need to prepare things for their journey, but it is enough to see Esca, who now accepts that his fate is to go with him, scowl silently.

Marcus frowns himself, steeling his armour against him. Prepared to see himself as a father might. Benevolent in displeasing his beloved because he can see that in the long run the outcome will be one of happinness. He looks down, looking forward to the gratitude that shall come when they have the funds for their farm in their hands.

*

Many otherwise decent men still held prejudice against freedmen and Placidus was by no means good or decent, so Marcus had been a little surprised by his decision to recognise Esca's equality by inviting him. All the same he had trusted it. It is only once they arrive after hours of terse, unfriendly journey, that he sees that his generosity might have limits.

During a hunt it is traditionally the job of slaves to go ahead of the horses on foot. They would track the prey, stir it out of its hiding and direct the hunt toward it. All the earth work, of preparation and enabling for the game, whilst receiving none of the pleasure of it's chase or kill.

But Placidus has laid on no slaves to help with this hunt.

This peculiar decision he explains by stating that he plans to select 'slaves' to do this work from the assembled men. It will be a novelty for them he suggests, much like the role exchanges of Saturnalia. A fair enough sort of game Marcus thinks until, of all the dozen men in attendence, Placidus selects Esca and another young freedman in attendence, Brennus, whose patron was a high ranking politician, as the men who should not ride horses.

Where he was too good natured to suspect it before, Marcus sees there that Placidus has only invited Esca with the intention to see him used once more as a slave.

Annoyed for the slur to Esca, but also to himself that Placidus would dare assign a man he considered an equal to a lesser task, Marcus turns on him that the choice is not fair, that it is meant to shame Esca, that it does not reflect his freedom, just presumes much on the fact of his former slavery.

Placidus defends himself, insisting he only selected the two men he did because of their youth which is minor compared to all the other men attending. If they two were the youngest he argues with Marcus, then it would be they on foot instead.

Marcus knows its a lie, Placidus, who smirks feintly when he speaks it, is a born liar. The blood in his veins heats, filling his cheeks with a furious flush.

To answer Marcus' outrage and conceal his slight, Placidus further parries the accused offense of the task by offering Esca and Brennus the help of the next youngest man from his party, a freeborn man by the name of Cassius.

At this point Esca steps between them. Making a mockery of Marcus' disagreement on his behalf, he refuses the offer of the unenthusiastic Cassius with a steely eye, then calls to Brennus and strides off, taking charge of his task, apparently meaning to do the job seriously, as though it were not a slur at all.

Marcus reluctantly quietens his defense of him.

Struggling to understand Esca's mind on the issue, he just presumes that honour means a different thing where Esca was raised. This being the way he's learnt to understand all the ways in which Esca's behaviour differs from what he thinks normal and right.

From this point Esca abandons Marcus' side to go on with Brennus, his future companion in toil. Even on the march to where the horses are stabled and the hunting will begin, where they need not be seperated it is with Brennus that Esca stays.

It is unfamiliar for Marcus to be left alone. He stares at the man Esca is with, sizing him up.

He is chesnut eyed, dark haired. He is also a Briton, freed by an indulgent master for love, Placidus informs him in a whisper with a barely civil sneer of contempt. Marcus cannot help but feel that comment is meant to imply likewise about his own freeing of Esca, and, not for the first time, he wants to strike Placidus soundly.

A temperate man when not in battle, embarrassed enough by their previous crossed words, Marcus does not, instead he disregards Placidus and focuses in on his study of Brennus.

As would be expected from one freed for affections sake, the man Brennus is pretty, but he is also surprisingly very young, his face seeming to be touched by even fewer summers than Esca's. For all that though his body is hefty, sturdy enough to be a man's, capable and muscular.

Marcus feels a strong dislike of him, although quite over what and for why he has no awareness. It inspires him to try to keep to Esca. He catches up to them and casually tries to speak close and low with Esca as he once always did, to keep flowing the current of energy that bound them together.

Esca resists it, looks at Marcus as though he doesn't know what he says whenever he makes mention of some private joke or saying or code between them.

At the other young man's comments though Esca responds easily enough for Marcus to know that it is he who is being rejected.

Esca has never done this to Marcus before this day. When first he arrived he rejected everything and Marcus too. Then with time he rejected everything except Marcus. Now it looks as though he has moved further still, for he looks upon this other younger man more fondly with each second of regarding Marcus blankly.

This hurts Marcus an unaccountable amount.

When wounded on the scale of emotion, as in combat, he defensively retreats, dropping back behind them, withdrawing into his own thoughts. Alone there he thinks perhaps that it is maybe only spite on Esca's part. A temporary emotion against him. Marcus would not suspect him capable of it, but their disagreement over attending did mean they were on such poor terms that they had not turned kind eyes on one another at all as they travelled. They had barely spoken either. There had been none of the amusing comments born of companionship that Esca let out of him. None of the idle sharing of his thoughts that so enabled Marcus to feel of exclusive closeness to him, that made him feel right and proper in sharing his own.

Now they have arrived and Placidus has been an ass and seperated them so they may not hope to make up at once. It would probably only have to wait until later. All the same Marcus feels a small flash of fear like he hasn't known since the Seal Village that maybe this time they might not be able to make up. Their separation and the thought of it continuing makes him feel nothing but acute pain.

Struggling for self control, to be relaxed to the fates in a way fitting to a man, Marcus all the same feels quite out of sorts with the bright day around.

*

Marcus loves to hunt. The laid upon deer and boar might have been a successful distraction but for the fact that Placidus' friends are men used to having food brought to them by slaves. Not rehearsed at the task they continually mess all attacks with clumsiness. Impatient with them for being considered Rome's best representatives when they are so inept at such basic tasks, Marcus gives up on enjoying the hunting or the company at all. Drawn inwards he longs sullenly for Esca's naturalness on horseback, his obvious, elegant capability with bow, spear and knife. Every time he sees Esca's familiar tunic flash through the trees and bracken of the wooded world they ride through he feels a strange pang of hunger in his stomach. An echoing, raw need. He wants him there with him, almost as though he could enjoy nothing without him.

*

When the hunt is done for the day Marcus is full of amusing, mocking things to say to Esca about the incompetence of the other men but Esca keeps himself still away, very much occupied with his new friend, who from their flashing mutual smiles he seems to have bonded with even more through their experiences on the ground.

*

As Esca's coordination grew finer in the midst of the other men's awful hunting skills, so too does his conversation grow more interesting with each of the others Marcus speaks to.

To his shame he catches himself nakedly glowering over at Esca incapable of anything else, willing him to turn and answer his need as he usually did. He does not this time and Marcus considers himself foolish, but this does not prevent him from continuing to seek him.

*

Fully masculine but lithe and nimble, Brennus looks especially well composed moving through the green of the glade. Oceans removed from Marcus who with his largeness has always felt a little ungainly and with his limping leg feels so all the more.

*

On the way back to the Villa Marcus falls naturally to the back of the crowd where he can stew in silence.

Ahead Brennus, taller than Esca, claps a hand confident on his back from time to time as they walk together.

Marcus is impotently reminded of all the times he wished he'd had the bravery to do the same in the light, but never did, afraid that someone might catch onto the depths and nature of his affection for Esca and react with disgust. He desperately, painfully wishes he could be in Brennus' place now so that he might find in himself the courage Esca deserves and finally touch him in glorious, easiness as this young man does.

He thinks he will go to them again then, interject in their conversation, force them apart with his winning or wit, but the stretches of his brains are slow at their best. With the exhaustion of the day running them alongside, they are far less than that, nothing but gloomy clumps of matter caught inside his head.

All he can think to say are curses at Esca or misplaced commands for him to come back to him.

He keeps them to himself.

The afternoon wears onward. The blackness of mood takes over. Everytime Marcus sees Esca turn to Brennus with a kind smile on his face he feels something tightening within him. He finds it necessary to reassert their connection in his head to get him through. He recalls their greatest intimacies. Fucks frenzied and languid. Where there was no seperation between them. Esca's voice low with lust, the things he once whispered against his flesh in that pitch.

It is not a far stray from this before he begins to daydream pushing Esca down and rutting into him. There being a powerful need in him to remind Esca how well they couple, of how fine a man he is. To show all that no one else could compete with how good he makes Esca feel when he is fucking in him or under him.

These thoughts, naturally spun and compulsive as they are, nonetheless make Marcus feel like a histrionic savage.

He is a man he asserts to himself and so is Esca. It is disgrace to think of acting like an animal pissing on a patch with regards to him.

Focused on commandering himself he tries to see all Esca's rebellion as shallow. It's not as though Esca has left him. He cannot, Marcus is still his patron, but also not given their plans to farm together. Esca has promised to do this as soon as the money is free to get to it and he is clearly not a man who shies from his word.

Therefore it should make no difference that Esca has another friend. He may turn his face up and away from Marcus to listen to someone else for a moment but they will be as one as ever soon enough.

*

Esca goes away to help prepare the paltry kill and Marcus is finally distracted. A man close to Placidus, the one worst at hunting, who Marcus had previously considered a fool, turns out to be a diplomat who assists Rome in bringing peace to their affairs with the natives. He wishes to hear of Marcus' experiences North of the Wall. Marcus loses himself to the telling. At the end of his tale the other man suggests that perhaps Marcus or Esca, might be brought into his profession as some sort of advisors in dealing with the local people.

Marcus laughs off the thought that he might turn himself to that, not seeing his skill in peace or Britons, but he puts Esca forward for it, listing praises of him and his nature and abilities, reminding himself of his love for him.

*

It is as if the Gods have heard the unsaid prayers from his pride because the next time he sees Esca at the feasting table he and Brennus are finally apart. Brennus sits with an older man instead, a lover perhaps although they are clearly not touching untowardly. Marcus supposes this is the one who granted him his freedom and is surprised at how respectable the man looks.

Marcus stares across at Esca. That none too straight nose in that tiny, pale face, the hard, stern coldness of his expression. His mouth, the one that has fed Marcus so many kisses, that he has broken so many against in the midst of hectic breaths and stroked cheeks, is a firm, line to him now. There is nothing in his eyes, not even a grudging something like there once was in the early days of their friendship.

An irritating pang of emotion begins in Marcus. He shovels food in his mouth to suppress the woe that threatens in his breast.

He was not some babe to act needfully without dishonour.

*

Having no care for the opinion of the fellows there Esca absents himself early. Marcus stays up a little later to save face.

*

The last amber gloam of sun light hangs around the water outside the open doors of Marcus' section of the Villa. Esca is stood in this doorway shadowed against the sight, waiting for him. He turns and Marcus' heart beats large in his chest. Marcus smiles, it isn't returned.

"How is your leg?" Esca asks with the same solemn regret and concern as ever.

Marcus fills with a dashed warmth to think that perhaps things are normal between them and replies calm and cordial.

"There has been no pain so far."

"It has held up well."

Marcus nods and Esca looks away once more.

The moment following rests heavy, with Marcus' longing and his confusion over Esca's state of mind. He elects to talk to him as if there has been no significant rupture between them.

"Did you enjoy the hunt?"

Esca turns face to him again, there is still no reaction in it.

Marcus persists, "You seemed to enjoy yourself a little more than I," he is trying to be casual with his discontent, to not show what he means, but is obviously referring to Brennus jealously nonetheless.

Esca turns a foul look his way then turns away saying nothing and Marcus knows he has said the wrong thing.

Esca looks away to the hills in the horizon. It's impossible to see him so hard, to have him so resolute, able to be so seperate, apart and independent, when Marcus himself feels like he will disintegrate if Esca does not turn to him and need him.

Marcus steps to him and puts palm against the sinew of his neck, rising from the back of his tunic. At the feel of his flesh Marcus' guts are full of seamy arousal. Memories of what this cautious touch has led to in the past flood into him. Rememberance of how Esca's arse feels under his palm, of the noise he makes when Marcus seizes the will and courage to mercilessly grasp and grope it.

Now, no further than his neck, Esca whips round to face him with anger in his eyes.

"What are you doing?"

Marcus has no answer, feeling the same old shame over his wants which had kept him from taking Esca until long months into their companionship despite the transparent desire that pulsed through them each from their very first moment of eye connection.

Esca never usually made him feel like this.

That he encouraged all attempts at lusty self expression was one of the many things that Marcus, so shy to take and ashamed of desiring, most appreciated about him.

Bolstering himself Marcus says, "You are here with me."

"Yes, you made me come with you, and hang my personal feelings."

Thinking of the diplomat whose aquaintance he has recently made Marcus says, "These are important people Esca, they could further our careers if they saw to it."

Esca's face spasms with furious disgust but his voice is measured.

"You've already said that. Several times. When have you known it to make the slightest difference to me."

Esca's eyes are cold, Marcus can feel him slipping away and spreads his palm to clasp his shoulder. He has a need to pull him against his chest, to his heart which is so warm for him that it will surely heat him, make him aware how much he is beloved, how much this thing is being done and endured only so that Marcus can be with him more fully.

Marcus fears now that maybe he has failed at really passing this message to him in the past.

"Don't," Esca says shrugging his hand off, "You said yourself important people are here, it's hardly safe."

Marcus himself would class the look he gives to Esca in return as pitiful and disgusting. In some ways he sympathises with the way Esca turns away from it and curtly says, "I'm going to go."

"Where?"

"Placidus has arranged sleeping for me across the way. I believe my quarters to be largely reduced in luxury from yours, but the other young man, Brennus sleeps there also so at least I will not be lonely."

After a moment Esca puffs a short sigh of breath which might be regret or irritation of various kinds.

Marcus thinks of him going to sleep with Brennus near. With all eyes unseeing in the dark the temptation to touch would probably be enormous. Added to this is Marcus' knowledge that Esca is a man who feels such need late at night too. Marcus has been given such dizzying pleasure and satisfaction by Esca's nocturnal lusts.

Marcus feels that come morning he will have lost Esca as surely as he had suspected and wonders what he could ever have again to fill such a void inside his being. All he feels is the deepest sorrow, but though inside he could weep, outside he is frozen solid.

He keeps himself purposefully still as possible lest he snap and do as his arm is telling him to and wrench Esca forcefully off his feet and into his arms.  
But when he contemplates spending the night alone when Esca feels such irritation with him his stomach feels too empty and he reaches out a hand desperately for Esca to grasp, for him to at least have some assurance of their continued affections.

Esca avoids his hold and instead says cooly, "You brought us here," before stepping out into the sunset.

Staving off his immature woe, Marcus tells himself again and over that Esca's mood is temporary, that he has no need to think his loyalty genuinely gone to such a minor disagreement. He holds onto this stoicism until he is curled on his cot with his eyes sound shut in sleep. But when he stirs awake in the early hours he finds that his face is tight with the tracks of tears spilt during his dreams.

The darkness in the room suffocates him then as he wells full of feeling.

At first it is fear of loss. He thinks with self pity how he had been before Esca, unhappy and unfulfilled, only living for the memory of the dead. Now even the dead are laid to rest, without Esca he would truly have nothing.

It isn't long until this sorrow reassembles itself as anger and to a former soldier, raised in war, anger quick becomes a fight. By the time Marcus rises, a steely will has him, that refuses to lose.

When the hunting party stops at his door to rouse him, Marcus feigns illness and has Esca summoned.

*

The moment Esca steps sandal inside the room Marcus moves to close the shutters to the outside. Esca eyes his activity with the same silence and stone face of disinterest that he wore in the first days of his slavery.

Grim with determination Marcus says to him, "You will not leave me to go to him."

Esca does not argue, nor does his expression change. This confuses Marcus, bothers him, so with menace he yanks Esca's tunic into a hold.

Unpeturbed Esca says.

"Why are you afraid you will loose me?"

That it is this weakness dwelling behind his strong fight gives Marcus a twinge of shame. Unable to say a thing his hand pulls on Esca defensively harder.  
There is still nothing in Esca's eyes. As though he really doesn't care that he's put doubt in Marcus' heart, that he's made him suffer and be humiliated.

Feeling foolish and hostile Marcus pins him hard against a wall, his forearm bracing him not at all lightly across the throat. Esca stands his ground, staring him down fiercely but without fuss.

Marcus stares back transfixed, a little disturbed to think that all he had grown to love and live for could have turned out be so very unworthy.

Their eyes scorch one another.

Marcus can hear and feel the desperate pant of his own breath doubled from beneath him. Esca is so close he looks so familiar and that gives him a strong beauty because of the alienness of his manners and behaviour.

Marcus drinks in all he knows and sees of him.

The Celtic paleness to his flesh, the underlying redness to his hair and pinkness to his cheeks, his sharp, small face, the strong, muscular brace to his shoulders, the heave of his chest.

Even as he fills Marcus' guts with anger and confusion he is also still very much what he is drawn to, what he wants.

Flame erupts all over him at the mere thought of possessing him once more.

Made impulsive and unstable by the strength of this desire, Marcus is drawn toward his shameless fantasies of reminding Esca he is his by giving him pleasure, until, unable to stop himself, he leans in and lays a lick or two at his mouth. Esca returns the kiss at first, his hands, small and moonlight white darting out to grip Marcus hips tight, close. Then he says, solemn, "The neglect of someone you love is not comforting is it."

All Marcus wants is peace between them. He ignores this comment and sinks his mouth to Esca's again but Esca will not suffer his kiss this time and turns away, hands slipping from touching him, pushing him away instead.

Finding his mouth hungry and shunned at Esca's neck, Marcus feels a rush of panic and need that is all animal and bites the curve of it hard.

Esca pushes him away fast with a hand to the centre of his chest. Marcus moves toward him again automatic and Esca warns furious, "Marcus!"

For a second Marcus feels the urge for greater force erupt from him but it dies down quick at the disapproval in Esca's eyes. Feeling helpless and somewhat lost he looks to Esca for what he should do.

Shaking his head and huffing a breath Esca stares at him.

They look to one another, the stubbornness and strength and realise they are both attracted still. Powerfully. It distracts from the worst of their dispute as easily now as it had the day Esca arrived.

Esca reaches out and yanks Marcus toward him by his tunic once more. Then when Marcus is close he settles his mouth hot against his lips and down over his neck.

Grateful to be met mutually because it had seemed so unlikely just seconds before Marcus deeply groans, "My love."

It reminds Esca who snaps back, "If you had love of me you would never have bought me here."

Mourning the simplicity of their physical desire, Marcus just sighs.

Esca stares at him, eyes cold with fury and says, "Do you know how humiliating it has been to be made the slave of my enemies again? It should have been clear to you the ill will Placidus meant me by my invitation and yet you would not respect my refusal to attend would you? It shows up well for me the truth of your supposed love."

Marcus growls in exasperation and disagreement, but before the illustrated, bitter truth of Esca's experience he is cold with shame and regret too, for not considering things from his point, for almost losing him.

He presses his lips closed and reaches for Esca once more, ready to be penitent with his body.

Esca stays away, face set in a snarl, body still stiff with rage.

"Esca, you can see how sorry I am, if that does not satisfy you then you may make me feel it however you wish, so long as you forgive it." Marcus says, desolate at the truth of his want to conjoin with him once more, bare at it.

Esca takes the slightest hint.

Hand on Marcus' chest again where once he pushed him away, with surprising force and strength he pushes him over, backing him up against the wall with intent. Sinking mouth to his shoulder he bites there hard, holding vicious, as if pouring his anger into the infliction of a wound.

It hurts Marcus, arresting his breath, but craving the contact he pushes Esca's head down into the action, his suppressed protest making him shiver.

That Marcus doesn't resist this pained punishment from him, that he encourages him, Esca trails his lips down and with tender slowness bites the swell of Marcus' chest through his tunic.

Marcus just lets Esca hurt him. His presence over him so strong and darkly used that it is erotic to them both. Marcus pants as the sensation of weakness swirls through his nerves, swelling his prick. Once Esca's lips find the flesh of his neck juncture, he is sucking before he bites, grinding his own cock against him, clear arousal motivating his hurt as much as punishment.

They both ripple with need.

Spurred by the sounds Marcus gives at being broken by him, Esca looks up and with eyes solid and darkening, reaches to his hips to bring their hot needs to touch.

They rub hard and fast against one another, bruising grips, cocks chafing against the scratch of braccae and want.

Lost to this bond between them Marcus begs once more for cement of it. Breathless and not ceasing the single minded motion of their lower bodies he asks,

"You truly did nothing with him?"

Esca gives no answer, looking from him, his eyes finding something compelling about the wall next to his body as he moves.

The air, laden with need for reassurance, crackles at the silence and yet still it continues. Marcus' insides revolt. Fearing the worse he flips at once from petted peace and passivity to utter fury, staring hard, betrayal drowning the light in his heart.

"You fucked with him?" He asks. Eyes on Esca who doesn't return his look. Marcus grip on Esca's hips tightens for each breath he takes before looking back to him or explaining himself.

"Esca!" Marcus snaps grabbing at his face, forcing his eyes to meet his.

Esca stays held, holding his gaze but still refusing to speak.

Self control shatters within Marcus. His terror is a gigantic wave crashing over him. He does not want an answer to his question anymore, all he wants to know is, "Would you leave me?" so pitiful the need, so violent the refusal and fear that he is barely able to form the words to ask this. He knows he should ache for the shame of his weakness but all he can think is how he needs Esca and whatever he has done he would not see him leave.

With a barely perceptible shake of the head Esca says, "No. I am yours."

"Mine?"

Then nodding he says it again, "Yours."

Marcus stares to him willing himself to trust him, until the need to fuck him, to prove it to himself grows urgent.

Pulling Esca's face toward him, kissing him, Marcus hands are all the while pawing and palming all over his body with ruthless hunger and left over fury. He loosens the ties of Esca's braccae only a little before thrusting his hands down into them, wrenching them off his solid curves, not caring at all for the possible burn to his flesh.

When they meet his flesh Marcus' hands are sharp like talons, one digging into Esca's ass, the other scraping over his thigh to spread them apart. 

Marcus' cock throbs as he takes it out, stroking it, breath turned to grunting at the sight of Esca still against the wall for him. Marcus spits just enough to coat his cock and enters him. At first Esca's hole resists his intrusion but Marcus has taken him enough this way to know to press on and soon enough, with focus to the forward judder of his hips, he spears him on it. 

Thrusting up inside Esca desperately, Marcus looks at him, sees at once how pained he has made his expression, then feels how his hands frantically clutch him close at the same time.

It is clear Esca wants Marcus the same dark way he is wanted.

Marcus knows there that they are both weak. This is only them. Marcus could never bring himself to do this to another, this lust to pain, to fuck, is too indignifying, and Esca is a warrior, a dominant, only Marcus could fill his ass so violently and not receive a beating.

He bites at Esca's neck as if to test and Esca's hands squeeze his ass even tighter, demanding more, wanting him closer, deeper. 

Gratification surges up Marcus' spine, his hips snap harder inside Esca until his cock spurts, filling him up.

He kisses him roughly, in time with the lingering, dying pulses of his hips and as he does Esca presses on his head to force his tongue harder into him. 

There is a change as he slips out, for Esca immediately begins to move away beneath him.

The trickly threat of loss starts its panic in Marcus' veins again irritating every inch of his skin. Acting on savage impulse, reduced, shuddering and unsteady with the tiredness of sex and the intensity of his emotion, Marcus says,

"You lay a hand on him or anyone else again and I will come in you with even more violence."

Marcus is revolted by the foulness of what he's said but on a raw level the freedom he feels to let his worst emotions free with Esca pleases him and he refuses to correct himself.

To his surprise Esca laughs, as if it is all too ridiculous then says, eyes twinkling with a smirk, "Are you not supposed to be making it unattractive?"

Then of course Marcus finds terrible amusement at his threat aware how empty it was. This only holds him for a while before Esca's breath, ragged with lust, interrupts him.

Esca has his hand to his cock, stroking his proud, blood filled organ for Marcus to look on at.

All the harsh blackness, the ice, is gone from Marcus and crowding in close to Esca he whispers soft, "You're still in need?"

Still tugging off, breaths sucked in sharp, like it's beginning to hurt a little, Esca raises his chin to him and says, "Briefly."

"What do you need to relieve you." Marcus asks, fingering the sore spot of bite bruise he's made on his neck, rubbing fingers over it again and again until Esca reacts with a shudder, his hips lurching his cock hard into his hand, his voice warning shaky.

"I could spurt to that."

Marcus likes this power and rubs a few times soft again.

"Ah I will." Esca warns again redundantly, hand stroking fast, his panting breaths swirling in the air.

"Do so." Marcus says, replacing Esca's racing hand on his cock with his own, instantly enjoying the hot sticky feel of his stiffness, all that hardness hard worked in his hand contrasting with the constant loud airy pants he draws from Esca, the small pinching clutch of his hand at his wrist.

Marcus looks on with as Esca clenches and spurts white everywhere, savouring their heavy entanglement.

As soon as his clothes are fixed in some reasonable approximation of before Esca fists a hand in Marcus' tunic and says fierce, "You own me. You always have, but I own you too and now you know how I will behave when I feel you do not respect me."

Marcus falls to kissing his neck regretful, needing to make amends but Esca just pulls up on his hair until he faces him and says. "Take me home."

Marcus quick contrasts the days spent in the wild with insipid souls, to the red hot intensity of their coupling and replies, nodding, "I will assemble our things."


End file.
